


This is Why I Have Trust Issues

by cakeisnotpie



Series: Phil/Clint This is Fear Universe [2]
Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Clint's not, Espionage, M/M, Mutual Pining, Phil's a superhero, Pierce is still a little shit, Political Intrigue, Slow Burn, au SHIELD, au hero registration, opposite sides
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-01
Updated: 2018-09-01
Packaged: 2019-07-05 12:58:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,305
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15864102
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cakeisnotpie/pseuds/cakeisnotpie
Summary: Second in the This is Fear Alternative UniverseThaddeus Ross is experimenting on prisoners in the raft.  Steve Rogers is tired of waiting for permission and Clint's in total agreement.  Along the way, Hawkeye meets Grey Force and Betty Ross gets caught in the crossfire.This is an AU where superhero registration leads to the government sanctioned S.H.I.E.L.D., it's illegal opposite HYDRA, and those caught in the shadow middle.  When Phil meets Clint, it's like tiny stones that start an avalanche as they discover each other's secrets and deal with their blossoming attraction.





	This is Why I Have Trust Issues

**Author's Note:**

> Hi all! I'm still here! Spent the summer writing a complete draft of a novel and am excited to say I did it. Next step is editing then searching for an agent to see if anyone is interested. 
> 
> This is the follow on to "Standing Right Next to You," part of my This is Fear universe. I wanted to play out what might have happened if heroes were asked to register much earlier in the timeline; as a result, there are registered assets like Phil Coulson, aka Grey Force, villains who work for HYDRA like Brock Rumlow, and a number of heroes who operate in the shadows, like Clint Barton. I envision this as an on-going series that's seriously slow burn for our boys as they cross paths in a world ready to explode. In this installment, we learn about what General Thaddeus Ross has been up to as well as get the first appearance of beardy, angsty Steve Rogers on the run as well as another glimpse of Melinda May, Chinese HIstorian. Enjoy!

“Watch your six!” He called, rolling to the right to avoid a large chunk of stone. “The Abomination is loose again.”

 

“This guy needs to learn to stay down.”  Captain America flung his shield at the big green creature. “Damn Ross and his vendetta against the Hulk.” 

 

With roar, the Abomination charged at Cap; even an exploding arrow did little to slow him down. 

 

“Keep on task,” Cap called. “Get what we came for.”

 

“On it.” 

 

He shot the control panel once he was through, slamming the door shut behind him. Red lights continued to flash, obnoxiously loud blasts of a siren sounded every five seconds. Four guards came running his way; a grappling arrow took him up and out of their reach too fast for them to aim their guns. The layout of the facility popped up on the inside of his eye lens; he jumped into an elevator shaft, hooked onto the line and repelled down to the bottom most floor.  Cold seeped into his bones, his suit no help against the wet, salty air. 

 

“Stop!” The guard pointed his gun, blocking his access to the hallway. 

 

He sank the arrow into the guard’s shoulder, pinning him to the wall.  

 

“Stay there,” he ordered. “And you get to live.”

 

The door to cell 7482 was a mass of iron rods, criss-crossing the rectangular space.  He typed in a code on the digital lock; with loud clanks, the rods retracted. Inside, a man hung suspended, hands and feet each constrained in metal cones that attached to the wall.  

 

A bullet zinged by his head; he fired without looking. “Damn it, I said stay there.”  

 

A large control panel blinked with green lights above a screen with a bright bar graph fluctuating. He slipped the USB into the port and started the program. 

 

“Don’t.”  The man lifted his head, shaggy brown hair hiding his eyes. “He’ll take over.” 

 

“Good.” Three steps back to the doorway.  “Ross has resurrected the Abomination. He’s been using prisoners here as unwilling subjects, and you’re on the list for the next round. Take down as many of Ross’ goons as you can on your way out.”

 

“Why?”  Bruce Banner tilted his head and his brown eyes tried to focus. “Who are you?”

 

“Someone interested in the truth coming to light.  And I hate it when guys say they’re good but are really bastards in disguise.”  He notched an arrow. “Ross is one of the worst.” 

 

Running before he let the shot fly, Clint didn’t stick around to see it hit the panel.  By the time he plowed through open elevator shaft doors, the lights flickered out, the EMP pulse shutting down everything connected to the system.  Halfway up, he heard the roar; by the time Steve jumped, catching his waist as they flew to the top access hatch, the whole facility shuddered. When they jumped off the top of the Raft Prison, rebreathers in their mouths and a waiting mini-sub just a click away, the Abomination was screaming in pain.  

 

~~++~~++~~++~~++

 

“I really love your books!”  

 

Behind thick glasses, the kid looked no more than twelve-years-old, his brown hair tousled in a fall of curls. He wore a ratty spiderman sweatshirt that had been washed a few too many times; clutched in his hands were three novels, covers half torn off and pages dog eared from use. 

 

“Thanks.”  Clint reached out and took the first paperback, careful as he opened it.  “What’s your name?” 

 

“Billy.” The other two joined the first on the table. “I’m really looking forward to the new series. How did you come up with the idea for it?” 

 

Gel pen scratching on the paper, Clint wrote a quick note then signed his name.  “If I told you, I’d have to kill you,” he answered with a wink. “Honestly, I get most of my ideas from listening to people.”

 

“Yeah, I like to sit at Starbucks and do my homework.  Never know what you might overhear.” He pushed the hair out of his eyes and Clint revised the age estimate up to seventeen or eighteen. “Get ideas for characters that way.” 

 

“Indeed you do.”  Last book signed, Clint pushed the stack back to the kid.  “Just keep writing, that’s the key. Don’t let anything stop you from putting what’s in your head down on the page.” 

 

“Wow, yeah.” Billy cradled the books to his chest. “I will.” 

 

Rubbing his fingertips across his palm, Clint glanced at his watch and saw it was past closing time for the bookstore.  Only four left in line; he’d be finished by fifteen after the hour. With a practiced smile, he kept going. A mother of four then a Catholic priest followed by a middle aged man led to the woman with long dark hair and intense eyes. 

 

“And who should I make this out to?” Clint asked, blue ink poised above the white page. 

 

“To Phil,” she said. “Sorry for cancelling on you.” 

 

His eyes flew up and he surveyed the room; the side of her mouth turned up in a smile. 

 

“He’s not here; I’m in town for a conference and saw the sign  This is a gift for his birthday.” She leaned against the table.

 

“I really am.” He looped the P in Phil. “Sorry that I had to cancel.”  

 

“Seems so.” She didn’t look at what he was writing. “He’s a good friend and deserves to be happy.”

 

“Probably best fate got in the way then,” he said. “Happy and I don’t do a lot of tangos.”

 

She laughed as she took the book and switched it for another.  “I think I like you,” she said. “Can you sign this one to Melinda?  Phil got me hooked.” 

 

After the store closed, Clint slipped behind the wheel of his Charger and drove outside the city to a small ranch in the suburbs.  Despite the publisher springing for hotels on a book tour, he always turned them down, opting for safe houses instead. Balancing on a wire he’d learned in the circus, but maintaining his identity was far more difficult.  Leave no room for slips, Natasha always said, and he’d already done a doozy this year. 

 

“Who was that woman at the end?”was the first question she asked when he locked the door behind him. “She knew you.”

 

“She works with Phil, was buying him a present.” He shrugged out of his jacket and tossed it on the couch. “Something about being in town for a conference. That’s all.”

 

“Is it?” She turned her tablet around and showed him the GW website. “Melinda May, professor of Chinese History.  Born in California, PhD from Tsinghua University. Books about Mao Tse Tsung and the rise of the Communist Party.”

 

“So what, she’s a Chinese agent?”  Clint wandered into the kitchen and grabbed a beer from the fridge.  

 

“I’m just saying we don’t know one way or the other.” She sighed and took the bottle Clint offered. “You’re taking risks, chasing after Pierce. I have a right to be worried.”

 

“We can’t let him get away with this shit.” He dragged out a chair and sat down, tipping back on two legs. “You saw the files; he’ll be coming for us all too soon.”

 

“So you’re buying into Rogers’ crusade? Have you heard the outcome of your handy work? The Hulk’s on a rampage, cutting a swath down the East Coast.  Twenty seven inmates escaped from the Raft and the Abomination headed right for his ex-girlfriend in Atlanta.” She nudged the leg of Clint’s chair and made it drop. “She’s alive, in case you’re interested, because Captain Britain was in town and got her to a hospital in time.”

 

“You know what Ross was doing to those prisoners, was going to do to Banner!” They’d had this same discussion two times already.  “He’s already upgraded Blackout and sent him out to kill. If he’d gotten to the Hulk …”

 

“Yes, it would be terrible, but he would have been controlled by Ross, not running wild.” She waved a hand when Clint opened his mouth. “I know, I know. We’ll be on the list of people Ross aims him towards, but we can defend ourselves.”

 

“I’m done arguing about this.” Clint stood up and shoved the chair across the linoleum floor. “I’m selfish and no hero; whatever it takes to bring down this charade, I’ll do it.  No way am I going to let these guys win. And I know you agree with me.”

 

She sighed. “I would have done things differently.  Rogers’ first option is to punch something; I prefer stealth.” 

 

“Which is why I called you. We couldn’t wait; Banner was scheduled to begin rehabilitation this weekend.” Clint grabbed a box of pop tarts from the cabinet. “We had to go.”

 

His phone went off; he looked at the number on the screen.  “Were your ears burning? We were just talking about you.”

 

“We being Natasha, I hope? I need both of you,” Steve said. “Blonsky is heading to D.C.”

 

“He human again? Or as close to it as he ever gets?” Clint mouthed the name to Natasha; she rolled her eyes. 

 

“Falcon says he’s got six other mercs and is heading to Culver University.” 

 

“Damn.” Clint closed his eyes. “Elizabeth Ross.” 

 

“Told you.” Natasha stretched and rose. “I’ll get my gear.” 

 

* * *

 

He circled around the side of the house, the overgrown bushes providing cover.  Three black SUVs were parked in front, Blonsky and his team already inside talking to Betty.  They’d arrived too late; their best bet now was to snatch her before Blonsky got her in the car.

 

“I count seven” Steve said over the comm. 

 

“Nine. Two more in the next yard,” Natasha corrected. 

 

“Actually, ten. There’s a sniper on the church roof down the street. And here I thought Hawkeye had super eyesight.” 

 

Clint froze, the weight of the gun barrel heavy at the base of his skull. 

 

“Grey Force.” This was just his luck; of course S.H.I.E.L.D. would call Phil. He lived only minutes away. “Look, this is not what you think. I’m …” 

 

“You didn’t free the Hulk and are now trying to kidnap the only scientist who knows how the Hulk was created?” Phil put a little more pressure on the gun. 

 

“That guy in there? Emil Blonsky? He’s not here to protect Betty Ross. He’s …” Clint was cut off by a crash followed by a scream.  Dropping his head and whirling around, he grabbed Phil’s gun and forced his hand away. “Damn it, we can’t let him take her. I don’t know what ….” 

 

Steve came smashing into the house and everything went to hell. Ignoring Phil, Clint shot the two in the yard then followed the crack of a rifle back to the sniper, losing an arrow and not waiting to see if it hit.  Charging through the shattered door, he picked off two more before Blonsky dragged a screaming and kicking Ross out to the cars.

 

“Stop right there.” Phil aimed at Blonsky’s head. “Let her go and we can sort this out.” 

 

“Sort this out.  You must be one of the good guys,” Blonsky said with a sneer. “Without trusting idiots like you, where would the world be?” 

 

His remaining men trained their weapons on Steve and Clint, a standoff in the front yard. 

 

“Does her father know what you’re up to?” Steve asked. “Using his daughter as bait to catch the Hulk?” 

 

“The General isn’t my keeper,” Blonsky replied. “He may have made me, but he doesn’t own me. Now, if you’ll excuse me …” 

 

Phil was moving before Blonsky pushed the trigger, knocking Clint away from the window so the blast of shattered glass didn’t cut him to shreds. Steve went tumbling, using his shield for cover; by the time they were on their feet again, Blonsky was driving away. 

 

Steve brushed himself off.  “Blonsky came prepared for us, and I don’t like it.” 

 

“He doesn’t strike me as the deep thinking type, so someone tipped him off?” Clint said. “Or you think this whole thing has been one long clusterfuck?” 

 

“From start to finish.” Steve glanced at Phil. “Good reflexes. Thanks. We’ll take it from here.” 

 

“The hell you will,” Phil said, trailing after Clint as they circled to the back yard. “My job is to protect Betty Ross and you’re the reason she’s in danger.” 

 

“I got this,” Clint said to Steve. “Go. I’ll meet you there.” 

 

Steve gave Clint a tiny salute then ran off. 

 

“If you think I’m going to let you …” 

 

“Phil.” Clint took unbuckled  his mouthpiece. “Blonsky’s the Abomination. General Ross’ is the one who experimented on him. We have to get Betty away from him.” 

 

“Clint.” Phil’s voice went flat. “But you’re … Jesus, this is complicated.” 

 

“Long story,” Clint said. He took two steps. “You coming with or what?  You can rescue Betty and be the hero.” 

 

Phil sighed then followed. “You know where he’s taking her?” 

 

“Got an inside person,” Clint said with a wink.

 

* * *

 

 

“Didn’t I say we weren’t bringing him into this?” Steve asked, eyes locked on Phil. 

 

“He’s evac for Ross. Leaves us free to fuck the place up.” Clint scanned the warehouse and the surrounding street. 

 

“Grey Force.” Phil held out his hand; Steve paused, then shook it. 

 

“You get in and get her out. Don’t interfere.” Steve used his gravelly voice, the one that intimidated most people. Phil didn’t blink. 

 

“Interfere?” Phil bit back. “This is a fucking S.H.I.E.L.D. facility.  If anyone’s going in there, it’s me.”

 

Steve stared for a second longer then nodded once. “Maybe you’ll find out what your Director has been up to,” he said. “I’ll go in the front; Hawkeye, you take the rear, make sure …” 

 

“Or we could just go in the side door that’s open.” Clint motioned towards a rectangle of light that appeared in the metal siding. A figure stood outlined in the glow. 

 

“Your inside man.” Phil took in the curves and the petite stature. “Or woman, so it seems.”

 

Clint grinned. “Best there is.”

 

He saw Phil’s hesitation and he couldn’t blame him.  Natasha was deadly; that’s one of the things Clint loved about her. She was the best and that was downright scary.  As he slipped passed, she raised an eyebrow but said nothing else about the new addition to the team. 

 

“Ross is in one of the labs; go left then take the second right,” she said.  “Cap and I will be the distraction.” 

 

“I don’t …” Phil started to object but the walls shook as the C4 went off, alarms blaring in the explosion’s wake. In a blink of an eye, Clint and Phil were the only ones in the hallway. 

 

“You get used to it,” Clint told him as they turned left. “She’s not much for conversation during ops.  Me, now, I like to keep a running commentary …” 

 

Phil pulled him into a side hall, pressing Clint flat against the wall and covering his body with his own. A herd of black clad guards stormed by, clatter of feet sending echoes that masked any sound Clint made as he slotted his hips in alignment with Phil’s and clenched his fingers into Phil’s hips. 

 

“Don’t usually put out on the second date, but, technically, this is our third, so I’ll make an exception,” he murmured into Phil’s ear.  He couldn’t see any of Phil’s face behind the mask, but Clint felt the jerk of Phil’s cock alongside his. 

 

“There’s already a lot of people inside you already,” Phil replied. “Do you sleep above your covers?” 

 

“A man who quotes Ghostbusters. God, you really are perfect.”  

 

They found Betty Ross in the third lab they checked.  Through the small glass window, they could see her strapped to an exam table, IV in her arm and a large device hanging over her, nozzle pointed towards her throat. Phil wasted no time kicking in the door, startling the two doctors and the lab tech. 

 

“Step away from Dr. Ross,” he said in a voice that Clint knew he was going to hear in his dreams. “And stop whatever you’re doing.” 

 

“It’s too late.”  The doctor on the left was a grey haired white guy with a thin body and an angular face. “We’ve already begun the process.”

 

“Shut it down,” Phil ordered the tech, a deadly pistol in his hand. 

 

“I … I can’t.” A young Asian, the tech shook his head, hands trembling. “Her immune system will be compromised; they already stripped her thyroid.” 

 

He heard sounds from the hallway; a dozen guards rounded the far corner.  Using the door as cover, Clint drew and fired in rapid succession then ducking out of gun sights before doing it again.  Four made it through the kill box range; dodging between them, Clint stabbed two with arrows, turned his bow into a staff, and took the last ones down. When he came back in the room, Phil had the two doctors tied up, the tech helping him search the computer for information. 

 

“Luke! We’re going to have company,” Clint said. 

 

“Damn it, I don’t know if it’s safe to move her.” Phil glanced at Betty; in the second his line of sight changed, the tech reached for a button on the console.  Clint drew and let fly an arrow, pinning the guy’s hand to the board. 

 

“What were you about to do?” Clint growled.  

 

“I’m just trying to …” He tried to move his fingers, cursed, and whipped his other hand around, aiming for the same button. “Fuck you.” 

 

He was dead before his fingers touched the plastic, an arrow through his heart. Clint shoved the him off the edge and onto the floor, retrieving both shafts; he had to wipe blood away to read the helpfully placed label “Infusor.”  

 

The female doctor sobbed, looking away from the tech’s body. “He was HYDRA. I knew it.”

 

“Or A.I.M. or some other faction,” Clint said. “And you can forget the waterworks, darlin’. I don’t buy what you’re selling.” 

 

“I just work here.” Middle-aged, slightly plump, she sniffled as tears gathered in the corner of her eyes. She turned her watery gaze to Phil. “I’m S.H.I.E.L.D., have been for years. You can look me up in the database.” 

 

“You didn’t notice your patient wasn’t willing?” Phil’s stance was wary, his back to the wall. “Save it for the interrogation.” 

 

“I have kids! They’re in middle school.” She grew agitated, crying now. “Please. I was just doing my job.” 

 

A roar echoed down the hallway and the walls shook, dust from the drop-ceiling filtering down around them.  For a split second, Clint glanced away and the woman took that as her chance, heaving herself forward, using her head as a battering ram to slam Phil in the stomach and knock him off-balance.  Faster than Clint thought possible, she threw herself onto the console; the instrument above the table rumbled then turned on, a wan light filtering out of the cone and covering Betty Ross. Before Clint could grab her, she rolled off, white foam leaking out of her lips. 

 

“Hail HYDRA!” she said before her eyes went dark. 

 

“Stop it!” Phil yanked the other doctor up. “Turn it off.” 

 

“No.”  He grinned, foam bubbling between his teeth. “Hail HYDRA.”

 

The building shook as the Abomination roared again. 

 

“Pull the plug.”  Clint glanced around but couldn’t see any wiring at all. “Damn it, where’s the outlet.” 

 

“S.H.I.E.L.D. sourcing. No lines to cut.”  Phil tapped his ear. “We need backup.”

 

Guards rushed in the room, cutting off their exit.  Clint could damn well handle them by himself, leave Phil free to help Betty. These were better fighters than the others; Clint was breathing hard, sweat rolling down his neck under his mask, before they were down for the count. 

 

“You need to go,” was the first thing Phil said when Clint was done. “Tell Cap and Widow that Stark’s on the way. Best not to be around when he gets here.” 

 

Another roar, this one different, deeper, almost a shout.  

 

“And now there’s the Hulk.” Clint sighed, swung his bow over his shoulder, and wiped blood off his cheek. “Hey Cap?  Tony’s incoming. Need him to get Ross out.” Clint looked over at Phil. “He bringing backup?” 

 

“He’s alone. Thought he might be able to get through to Banner,” Phil replied.  “ETA six minutes and counting.” 

 

“Just Stark,” Clint told Steve. “Let the Big Guy fight it out; maybe seeing Tony will do him good.”   He toggled off the com link. “You be alright by yourself? I mean, with Blonsky and the Hulk out there? They might bring the building down around you.” 

 

“Maybe the power will go out.” Phil nudged him on the shoulder. “Go.” 

 

The urge to lean in and kiss Phil hit him; just one kiss, a quick press of lips to hold in his memory and spin fantasies around.  But Clint didn’t. Too many unknowns, secrets held tightly, differences to span. Instead, he tried to go with cocky, a wink and grin, and ended up with a half-smile that didn’t hide his regrets. 

 

“Thanks,” he said before he left the room.

 

* * *

 

“You’ll want to hear this.” 

 

Nat tossed an earbud Clint’s way as he walked into the safehouse; he connected it to his hearing aid and tuned into the conversation. How Natasha had gotten all her bugs in place, he never bothered to ask. 

 

“... her own protection.  With the Hulk on the loose, I wanted to make sure my daughter was safe from that creature,”  said Thaddeus Ross, Secretary of State and two-faced son-of-a-bitch. Clint hated the man for personal reasons as well as on principle.  Anyone who’d okay using a nuke on New York City when there were other options was by definition a villian. 

 

“With all due respect, I was there and I saw Blonsky take her by force,” Phil cut in. The fact that Clint could identify the modulated voice should worry him but it didn’t; he’d admitted, at least to himself, that he had a serious hard on for Grey Force aka Phil Coulson.

 

“And why were you there again?  Do you expect me to believe that you just coincidentally showed up in time to ‘rescue’ my daughter? At the same time as Captain America and Hawkeye?  How do we know you’re not working with the shadows?” Ross demanded. 

 

“Do you know what I do?” Phil’s voice was sharp. “Or are you that uninformed about registered agents?” 

 

“Grey Force is our predictor, Ross.  It’s his job to figure out what’s going to happen before others do,”  Alexander Pierce, Director of S.H.I.E.L.D., calmly explained. “And he saved your daughter’s life; Stark says she’s responding well to Dr. Cho’s experimental treatment.”

 

“Exactly where is she receiving this ‘treatment’?” Ross thundered. Clint winced and adjusted the volume. “I’m her father, damn it. I demand to be told. Stark has no right to …”

 

“Betty has requested no one be told, Thaddeus.” Pierce sighed softly. “She wants time alone.” 

 

“Alone, my ass. Stark’s lying; he knows damn well what happened to Banner. Probably got him stashed in that big ugly tower of his. I’ll get a warrant to search the place …”  

 

“Mr. Secretary, I think we have a bigger problem.  HYDRA operatives were in a S.H.I.E.L.D. facility. Blonsky is the Abomination. The Raft was breached … easily, I might add, and multiple prisoners escaped.” Phil spoke over Ross. “The whole premise of superhero registration was to ensure the public safety and put limits on supers ability to act on a world’s stage.  If we can’t police our own …” 

 

“Don’t tell me about the act; I was one of the co-sponsors of the original bill, God damn it.  If, and that’s a big if, HYDRA has managed to infiltrate one base, Pierce will deal with it.” 

 

“We’ll start an inquiry,” Pierce promised. “Find the truth behind the allegations.” 

 

“Oooooh, an inquiry; I’m shaking in my boots,” Clint said; Nat shushed him. 

 

“Sir, this is not an isolated incident,” Phil protested.  “We need to take action, at least put Blonsky in the Fridge and upgrade security at the Raft.” 

 

“I’ve taken care of Blonsky,” Ross said. “You don’t have to worry about him. And the Raft is under my control; the people responsible for this will be sacked.” 

 

“Director Pierce …” 

 

“That’s enough for today, Grey Force.  Thank you for your efforts.” Pierce effectively dismissed Phil. 

 

Footsteps sounded then a door opening and closing.  

 

“He’s going to be trouble,” Ross grumbled.  “If Rogers has gotten to him …” 

 

“I assure you I have the utmost confidence in my operatives,” Pierce replied.  “You’re the one with out-of-control assets. Get your house in order, Ross, or I’ll have to do it for you.” 

 

“Don’t threaten me, you little shit. I know all your secrets.” 

 

Clint could practically hear Ross’ teething grinding as he spoke. 

 

“Then there’s nothing to worry about, is there?” Pierce gave a cold chuckle. “I’ve got work to do, Ross. Go manipulate an election somewhere, will ya?” 

 

Grumbling the whole way, Ross exited the same way Phil had.  

 

“Judy?” Pierce said. “Bring me the Thunderbolt files, will you? Oh, and another diet soda.  It’s a two can kind of day.” 

 

An ache settled in Clint’s stomach as Alexander Pierce’s office went quiet. Phil was on the man’s radar and Clint had put him there. 

 

“And that’s why I can’t have nice things,” Clint groused, handing the bud back to Natasha. 

 

“We’ll keep an eye on him,” she promised.  “You like him and, besides, he could be useful.” 

 

Clint grinned. “I can always count on you to keep things in perspective, Tasha.  I do like him a lot.” 


End file.
